The Mirror Sliver

by Constance Wallace

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Huddled with Olifur, Idril tried to keep warm under the furs. It was almost dawn, but his mind hadn’t rested since they stopped for the night. What had happened puzzled him and he didn’t know what the wand had done. It had taken over all senses and he couldn’t understand the strange energy that enveloped him. It left him in a worse state than when he woke on the beach in the cold surf. He hadn’t a clue about his past, and now, he felt very uncertain about his future. All time seemed to have merged in just that one moment of his desire to wield magic.

  He stared at the dimly lit entrance to the small cave Nimi had found. It had been half hidden behind the broken limbs of some ancient dead trees, but somehow the elf located it. The four gathered in front of a fire and ate the meager supper that Nimi provided. It proved to be a quiet meal. The events of the day marked a peculiar moment for them all. Particularly for Idril. There were many questions he felt were unanswered and even when the voices murmured in his head, he still didn’t understand what they wanted. He hadn’t yet mastered how to separate them. Too many of them talked at once.

  During the night, out of the corner of his eye, Idril caught Adalay and the elf regarding him strangely. They weren’t alone in trying to understand the episode with the wand. It perplexed him, too. In his mind, he recreated the minutes before the wand branded him. He remembered stroking the soft wood of the shaft, the symbols on the golden tip beckoning to be understood, and his wish, the desire to be the great wielder of magic that Nimi thought he was. This was the starting point, he surmised. It was the wish, the heart’s desire which caused the wood to awaken. He felt the voices talking to him and the soft murmuring of the ghosts who used the ancient relic before.

  In small phrases, they tried to make him aware and he caught some of the message. The spirits spoke of great things and other lands. Lands that weren’t of this planet, of Be’thasileth or Green Isle, but a place called Earth. This was his homeland, they said. Idril shook his head, trying to dislodge them. He was of Be’thasileth, not Earth. He heard Olifur say it when he woke from the cold death. He was now a creature of this world. Earth would never be his home.

  Slowly, he slid from under the fur and moved outside. The sun was rising. As he stood on the edge of the mountain trail, he surveyed the surrounding land below. Off in the distance, he could see the rocky shoreline from where they had traveled. Black Isle was large. Its mountain range disappeared on the horizon. Towering above the woodlands and evergreens below, the snowy peaks were smothered by low, misty clouds. There were only two colors to the island, black and grey. The snow even seemed to turn to grey when it touched the rocky surface.

  A small sound caught Idril’s attention, breaking him from his thoughts. A tiny cascade of pebbles tumbled from above. “Who’s there?” he asked. His eyes scanned the rocks. In the dim morning light, he could make out the furry body of a wolf. The animal’s eyes regarded him with patient contemplation before turning and slowly trotting further up the trail. Idril felt drawn to it and he followed. Grabbing onto the rocks, he began to climb, searching for the wolf.

  When he reached the ledge above, he hoisted his body over and stood up. The wolf had waited for him. Lowering its head, it whined and then quickly disappeared into a thicket. Idril followed cautiously. He understood this wolf wanted something, but at the same time he didn’t want to be attacked.

  When he reached the shelter of the thicket, he found himself in front of an ancient marble temple. The stone was cracked by vines, but the grandeur of the pillar entrance could be seen under the years of age. The wolf stood at the top stair. Its gaze held his attention and when he reached the bottom step, the wolf suddenly shape-shifted into the figure of an old woman. Stumbling backwards, Idril fell onto the snowy ground, startled.

  “Do you know who I am?” she asked. Her raspy voice beckoned to him. “Come closer.”

  “No,” he replied. “Should I remember you?” He moved toward the step she stood on.

  “You don’t recall our visit in the bogs on Green Isle?”

  Idril shook his head slowly. “I don’t know much of this world. Except snow and death.”

  The old woman shuffled down to where Idril stood. She grasped his hand and examined his fingers, hands, arm, neck, and face. Idril felt that she was taking in the strange markings. Her bony hand held his wrist tight as her eyes studied the left side of his body.

  “It’s changed. Hm. This is strange indeed. The path you take is no longer what I saw earlier. Your direction is new. Have you free will over the fates? Or is there some higher power at work here?”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  Laughing slightly, the old woman smiled oddly. “He named you Idril Amras, wielder of magic. That elf who says he comes from Kille Cael. Interesting one, he is.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “He’s more than a friend. A greater purpose has been presented to you in this place. They have taken you for their own and you no longer belong to Earth. But you wanted that, didn’t you?”

  “That name is what they whisper in my head,” Idril said. “Earth.”

  “They should. They came from there. Before Uthal destroyed them. They’re the Druid spirits attached to the wand. Listen to their advice. They’ll keep you safe.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the one who watches over Be’thasileth and those who dwell in its lands. Some call me the goddess of the land. Others call me by the name of Morrigana. I’m more ancient that Uthal. Remember that.”

  “They say you were once of Earth, too.”

  Morrigana nodded. “Yes, it’s true. But I traveled with those who sought refuge from the darkness. Those in your world seemed to forsake the things of nature. There was no use for what I had to offer.”

  “Will you ever go back?”

  “No. But you will. Only for a time, though. Until Green Isle calls you back.”

  “I can’t go there. I know nothing of that place.”

  “The wand has chosen you, Idril Amras. You’ll wield its magic. Your destiny doesn’t stop at the doorstep of Uthal. It continues back at Earth. It’s part of your life’s path and you can’t forsake it. You may try. But it’ll always bring you back to where you belong.”

  “What’s needed of me? Do you know? I’m not sure of my future. Because I can’t seem to understand my past.”

  “There are many things desired of you. But for now, your quest is to help Nimi and Adalay. Be prepared for battle. It’s coming. Like the roaring of a great beast that wants to devour all of you. Beware of strangers. Some are worth knowing. Some not.”

  Idril closed his eyes. He could feel the surge of energy from the wand, safely held close to his breast in its box. The power was intoxicating.

  “And don’t become swayed by its call or use it for wrong,” Morrigana whispered. “Then you will be consumed by the blackest of all evil.”

  Idril opened his eyes and stared at the old woman. He understood her meaning. “How can I stop it from taking me over?”

  “I’ll give you Ewa. Its presence will help you understand what’s right and what’s wrong as you wield the power of the Fomorian wood. Ewa is wisdom. It’s a magic that the old Druids of Earth once carried. It will guide you on your journey.”

  Balling up her hands, the old woman closed her eyes. A great blue light suddenly shone through her fingers as she moved her hands around a circle of energy. Slowly she crushed the electricity into a small compact sphere and thrust it toward Idril’s heart. The jolt of its presence in his body sent a shock through him. His head snapped back as a warmth cascaded through his extremities.

  “Ewa will stay with you forever. It’ll protect you from the sway of darkness. It’s my gift to you. Remember. Help Nimi and Adalay free the others.” Shape-shifting back into the wolf, Morrigana trotted out of the thicket. In a moment, the wolf transformed into a flurry of snow and the ice crystals danced away on the wind.

  Idril to
uched his heart where the Ewa had been placed. It was hot, the energy warming his body. He followed the animal tracks back out of the thicket and found himself once again on the ledge alone. He thought of what Morrigana said to him. Going to Earth had never crossed his mind. To him, it was an unknown place that the ghosts in his mind kept referring to. He could tell by their voices that many emotions were carried away when they left Earth. It would be the same homesickness he would feel when he had to leave Be’thasileth and his few friends here.

  When he made it back to the cave, he quietly climbed back under the furs. He thoughts moved to his encounter with Morrigana once more. To go back to Earth would be a hard thing for him. For a creature of magic to live on Earth would be a dangerous thing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Bring me the bottle with the children,” the witch demanded of a Fir Darrig that hovered at her feet.

  The hideous creature darted off to the staircase at the far end of the room. His rat feet clicked wildly on the marble floor. When he was gone, Bera turned to the large manuscript in front of her. Carefully she flipped the pages that had been yellowed with age. Even though the ink was fading, she could still make out the symbols of the old Fomorian curse. The forgotten spell was one they hoped to keep secret. But they failed, its power too consuming. Grinning hideously, she remembered taking from them the knowledge of the curse.

  “I see what you’re thinking,” a deep voice murmured from behind her.

  The witch glanced at the large oval mirror. The rats had wheeled it up from below. She saw Uthal’s face floating in red shimmering clouds behind the silver glass. “Then you’ll know my thoughts are only of how wise you had been when you lived among the Fomorians. Wrenching from them the vilest thing they created.”

  “It was difficult, but worth the time.” Uthal’s face disappeared briefly in the cloudy pane of glass and then reappeared abruptly. His eyes glowed slightly as he scrutinized the witch. “You’re shuttering your thoughts again.”

  Bera hated when he probed her mind and even though it was a practice he repeatedly did these past years, it was unnerving. “Must you always pry into my mind? What are you searching for?” she asked. She hoped her challenge would make him back away.

  “It’s the closest I can feel to being free. That’s all,” he replied. His grotesque features flitted in and out of the shadows in the mist. Every now and again, his horned brow pressed against the other side of the mirror glass, straining to see the book she studied. “Have you found the words?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what of the Bodach we employed? Any word from him?”

  “No. He’s still out with those who didn’t drown. I’m assuming if he hasn’t shown his presence here at the fortress, he’s doing his job.”

  “It’s most unfortunate that the Slaugh didn’t do away with all of them. Especially the sword bearer. It pains me that they have found their way through Locien and onto Black Isle. How could they? I’ve set such precise traps.”

  “There’s other uninvited guests whose presence on this island aren’t welcome either. I feel Morrigana and an unknown. Morrigana never cloaks herself. The other one knows how to hide. I’ve felt the power before, but I can’t remember where.”

  The rage the witch expected from the warlock didn’t come. Instead, there was a long heavy silence. Bera continued to work on deciphering the ancient words and symbols. She veiled her thoughts. Kidnapping Fontinose, the Flower Fairy scholar of Queen Onagh’s court at Crystal Palace, hadn’t been easy, but he was one of the only ones who could translate the language. Under torture, she had been able to persuade the fairy to impart his knowledge to her. She now worked diligently transcribing the ancient spells in the book.

  “Your Highness?”

  Bera looked down at the Fir Darrig who interrupted her thoughts. Her scowl brought a quick response.

  “Here’s the bottle you requested,” he whispered. He presented her with an ornate glass bottle.

  Holding the large blue bottle up to the light, she smiled at the tiny figures huddled together. The Banshee had taken very good care of these three that had recently been kidnapped from Earth. She personally hated children. It was enough that they had had two of them in the dungeons for over a year now.

  Bera turned the bottle carefully upside down and the tiny forms tumbled out onto the stone floor of the castle. With a few words of enchantment, she sprinkled them with a dusting and the three children sprang to normal size.

  “Where are we? I want my mom! Where’s my mom?” the smallest of them cried.

  “Well, aren’t you a brave thing to speak to me. Unfortunately, valor doesn’t get very far here.” Her lips twisted into a smirk as she lifted his chin up with a sharp finger nail. “What’s your name?” she demanded.

  “Toby.”

  “Shut up, Toby. You’re annoying me. If you don’t be quiet, I’ll put you back in the bottle.” She smiled when the others caught Toby by the arms and brought him against them. “Good. I can’t stand children for this very reason. Too much noise. Uthal? Will these do for you?” she asked the mirror.

  The warlock appeared through the mist. His red eyes glowed and his horned brow furrowed. “Strong life forces. I can feel the strength. Especially that little one. They will be perfect. Put them with the other two.”

  “Only too happy to oblige.” She pulled on a long bell cord by the wall. “I’ll ring for one of the guards to take them down.”

  The witch waited silently. Her eyes never left the shivering forms of the children. She would be glad when they were gone. All five of them. Children made her feel uneasy. Their youth reminded her of her endless age. And the grotesqueness she hid under this shell.

  A guard knocked on the door before opening it. Stepping in, he saluted the witch. “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Take these three things down to the dungeons. Put them with the other two we got last year. Make sure you feed them and give them whatever else they need. We don’t want any of them to expire before it’s time for the spell.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  The guard grabbed his sword from its sheath and poked at the children, forcing them out the door. Bera heaved a sigh of relief. Shaking her head, she turned back to her task with the manuscript. She noticed Uthal still at the glass. “Is there something else you need?” she questioned lightly, afraid of angering him.

  “Yes. I’ve decided what to do about Morrigana’s presence here on the island. Release a regiment of Wulvers and Fir Darrigs. Have them hunt the others as well. Tell them to do away with as many as they can. Perhaps the fray will keep her occupied.”

  “What about the earthquake? Did you figure out what that was?”

  “No. I’m still searching. The source will present itself soon. Have you heard from Princess Ceridwyn? Is she close?”

  “She sent a raven with a message. They made it to shore a day or two before the storm and needed some time to unload the horses and supplies. Since they were unable to make it to Lismort, they dropped anchor on the other side of the island. It’ll take them a few days longer than originally planned. But they should be here shortly.”

  “I don’t like delays.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have ordered the storm. It slowed them down just as it hindered the others.” Bera hid her smile. She liked making Uthal look stupid.

  “Fine. Notify me when she comes. I need rest for now. My energy is draining.”

  Bera watched as the mist and shadows ebbed. It finally dissipated, leaving the mirror glass smooth and reflective. She frowned as she went back to reading the ancient book. In her hard heart, she knew the time was coming for the Black Warlock’s release. But she couldn’t decide if it was a good thing. When he was ready to gather all magic to them, would he turn on her and demand her life force as well? She knew his greed and desire for revenge.

  I’ll need to be ready with another plan. While he may pretend that his power was great, she knew it was limited to the frame of the mirror pris
on. It was her power that worked for them both. When it came to Uthal and his plans, things had a habit of going wrong. By tomorrow, she decided, she would have to devise a safety net for herself. Should Keltrain make it to Crag Cairn with the sword bearer, she would need an escape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Where did you go?” Adalay asked Idril. She followed him up the trail.

  “I walked a little ahead. To see what the path was like. That’s all,” he responded without looking back at her.

  Adalay could tell he was lying. Her sense of discernment was never wrong. The boy seemed different this morning. She saw him leave the cave in the first light of day and remembered the expression on his face when he returned. “You appeared disturbed when you came back. I was just concerned.”

  “Like I said, I just wanted to see what the trail was like further up. Nothing more.”

  Nimi glanced back at her and his expression told her to let the discussion die. They had whispered about the boy’s branding into the night, both huddled together under the furs. Nimi didn’t seem concerned about the event. At least not as much as Adalay.

  “We don’t even know what kind of magic the wand contains,” she had said. “Old relics like that can’t be trusted. I know the myths about some of them possessing those who used them. It could make him different, unpredictable.”

  Nimi smoothed a curl away from her face, the small act gentle and kind. “You dwell on things that are meant to be. The boy was sent to help us. If the magic hadn’t taken him then, it would have another time. I’m thankful he’s woken the wand. Perhaps our quest will benefit from its use.”

  Adalay remained quiet for a moment. “I don’t think he was sent here to help us, Nimi. I feel he has a greater purpose. Something beyond Green Isle. But my powers are weak and I can’t pinpoint what it could be.”